Smells Like Drains, Tastes Like Syllabub

Ahhh… The sweet scent of durian. Known across South-East Asia as “the king of fruits”. Celebrated at festivals across Malaysia and Indonesia. Freighted cross-continents by fans of the delicacy.

Yet routinely barred from public places, as this sign at a Penang hotel shows.

There are reasons, of course, for this lethal weapon’s unpopularity. It’s not just the aesthetics. Savagely spiked, with a cannonball heft, the durian won’t be winning any beauty contests any time soon.

It is, to be honest, the smell.

Like drains. Bad drains. As pungent as some of the finest French cheeses or ripest fish sauces. The kind of smell that might just work for, well, a cheese, but doesn’t quite cut it for a fruit.

Now, junior is no slouch when it comes to food. He’s eaten crickets, fish sauces, sashimi, Stinking Bishop cheese, oysters…

But durian? No way, Jose.

Horrified child with the smallest durian we could find.

Open up the hefty exterior and the interior isn’t that appealing, either. The sturdy segments reveal a curdy white pulp surrounding large, chestnut-brown seeds.

Perhaps slightly more appealing when opened up.

Yet it tastes, to be honest, like no other fruit on earth. The pulp has a creamy rich sweetness that’s similar to syllabub, with a slight lemon sherbet tinge to it. It makes an absolutely decadent filling for chocolate and a phenomenally popular icecream.

Connoisseurs around the world will pay through the, erm, nose for the best durians, fresh-freighted, straight off the tree. And I guess, for them at least, the smell is part of the appeal.

Thanks to Beth at Wanderlust and Lipstick for hosting ;Wanderfood Wednesdays.